Traitor's Fire
by Tipsy Pirate Lass
Summary: A new member of the fellowship has appeared, and to the dismay of a few, she's a 'she'. But she's not all she seems - she has a secret. CHAPTER 6 UP!!
1. A Girl

Here is the elusive first chapter! I'm still not sure what I did to it to make it dissapear... Oh well! *shrugs*  
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The day was grey and dull, almost mournful when the fellowship of the ring set out from Imladris. A chilling wind blew up out of the East, as if striving to force back memories of the Hall of Fire, where they could sit and listen to songs by the warm flames, if only they were to turn back to Rivendell. Sam, Merry and Pippin were now with each step, leaving the furthest boundaries of their knowledge of Middle Earth behind, and they looked about at the empty lands about them as if they expected dragons to burst out, roaring fire. The land was bare of trees, filled with boulders, holly and dead thorns which rattled mournfully in the wind. Their world was all grey and brown, seeming to add to the chill of the day.  
The company was resting and Pippin it was, who first saw something dark-brown through the long, pale grass. It did not look aright amongst the pale, dried colours of Hollin.  
"Merry, do you see that?" he whispered to his friend, for anything above a whisper seemed to make the hissing grasses listen.  
Merry looked where Pippin pointed, and indeed, something healthily brown and living could be seen through the waving grasses. Glad that he had found a distraction in the never changing land, he tugged at Frodo's cloak. Frodo in turn, tugged at Gandalf's cloak. The company was now looking up at the hobbits, others wondering what they were pointing at. The elf, Legolas had seen the brown soon after Merry, and was already striding lightly across the grass, but his long white knife was out. It was a simple precaution; they were not yet far from Rivendell.  
Whatever the Legolas ands the rest of the company had expected, they did not find it. Lying in the grass, elven-brown hair lifted in the wind, was a maiden with fair elven features. She was not clad in a gown, but in the clothes of a traveller, much like what was worn by Legolas and Aragorn themselves, yet it was of a green grey like the wind tossed sea. Her hair was curled, in small ringlets that fanned about her in the grass, moss and dirt entangled in it and under the sienna hair on her forehead could be seen a small line of dried blood.  
"A lady?" said Legolas, suprised. "He called out to the others behind him, who were following "A lady!"  
Aragorn arrived second, and kneeling down, pulling back her hair, a cut could be seen above her ears. The ears were elven, with the point of that kindred.  
"She is unconscious and cold." said Aragorn, "Come Legolas, let us carry her near the fire."  
  
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Aragorn bathed the wound with athelas and water and Legolas watched her, as they reasoned that it would be easier for her to see one of her own kindred when she first woke. All the company slept but Legolas and the watch, Sam and Aragorn.  
It was deathly still. But for the cracks of the dying fire and the hollow rattle of the grass, naught could be heard. Aragorn stared into the fire, his mind retracing his steps back to Rivendell. Sam was staring sleepily at his toes in the grass and Legolas was running under the eaves of Mirkwood. The silence was broken when the girl awoke with a jerk and swaying, suddenly began to spit out water. The trio were roused out of their thoughts and Aragorn gave her his hand. When she had ceased coughing it seemed she first noticed that she was not alone. She turned her head to look at Legolas, and when their eyes met she gave out an exclamation of fear. She crawled away on hands and knees. She turned about, leaning against a boulder. Her hand went to her thigh, as if some weapon should be there. She moaned. Legolas stepped forward again, his hand out in a gesture of peace and friendship. Why was she afraid of him?  
At Legolas' approach she squealed and pressed further back into the boulders behind her. Aragorn came up quickly beside Legolas and put his hand on the elf's shoulder.  
"I see we were incorrect about her feelings for other elves." he said quietly.  
Aragorn stepped forward again, both hands out before him so that she could see he had no weapon. She visibly relaxed, but did not seem sure that he would not harm her. Aragorn stepped forward and squatted so that he might look at her eye to eye.  
"Are you alright?" he asked her in Sindarin. There was no answer, but her eyebrows knitted and her eyes darkened as she looked at him.  
"K'i'that." she muttered darkly, yet her voice sounded so strange and somehow exotic that Aragorn wondered where she was from.  
The Ranger tried again in all the languages he thought she might know, Legolas had offered Silvan, but to no avail. Aragorn turned and stepped back to where Sam and Legolas had waited and watched.  
"She does not speak anything I know." he said to them.  
They heard her clear her throat behind Aragorn's back.  
"Then you not try most simple answer." she said. Her voice was somehow different from what they expected her to sound like. It was a little deeper than what you would expect from someone of her height and stature, but it was musical.  
The three stared, their eyes wide. She was sitting now, cross legged, and smirking. Her hair, which had seemed pure brown, now proved to have an a faint hint of an almost green colour, and her skin was shockingly pale.  
"Lady, I am glad you understand us. I am Aragorn-" Sam raised an eyebrow at the use of the man's correct name "this is Sam and this Legolas." he said, gesturing to his companions.  
She seemed aware again of Legolas, and shrunk further back against the stones.  
"-and none of us will harm you, I swear." Aragorn finished.  
She looked at Aragorn, searching his eyes. She looked in turn into Legolas' and shivered a little, though the elf was the only one who noticed. She looked at Sam, who was standing behind Aragorn's legs, not quite hidden. She seemed to take heart from this. The girl put a hand on the rock and pushed herself up to her feet, shaking.  
"You two, watch her and I will fetch Gandalf." Aragorn ordered, and he strode off to where the wizard rested.  
The girl looked a little worried at Aragorn's departure, but seemed more preoccupied with walking. Her legs must have been weak, for they stumbled as she tried to walk. Legolas moved forward, but the girl whimpered at his approach.  
"Sir, if I may be so bold, I would suggest that you don't do that." Sam spoke up "She doesn't seem to have taken much of a fancy to you, you might say."  
The girl looked at Sam, but only Legolas noticed the relief in her eyes. His forehead wrinkled and he stepped back again. Sam looked at the elf, and then the girl and then he too stepped forward.  
"Miss? Do you want any help?" he asked, inwardly marvelling at his own outgoing.  
"Sam, yes?" she said, voice questioning.  
"Yes, that's me. May I be so bold as to ask what your name is?"  
She said something that to the other's ears sounded an unpronounceable jumble of sounds.  
"Pardon?" asked Sam.  
She laughed. "Kienariel is good."  
"Kienariel." Sam repeated, testing how the name fell from his tongue.  
"Kienariel." Legolas said, also testing the sound.  
Kienariel flashed a look at him again, eyes dark again. The dark eyes that flashed at him seemed to send out faint ripples of darkness, for all near the girl appeared, to Legolas' eyes, to darken. The brief vision passed, and she looked back down at the hobbit, and Sam had noticed nothing.  
  
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Aragorn now came back with Gandalf, who was also followed by Frodo. By the time the three came up to the boulders where Sam, Legolas and Kienariel were standing Kienariel had stepped forward a bit, eyes wide and mouth in an 'O' of surprise. When Gandalf looked at her, he smiled.  
"Greetings, my lady. I am Gandalf."  
Legolas did not wonder that Mithrandir had used 'Gandalf'. He guessed that Aragorn had filled Gandalf in while they walked to the girl's obvious mistrust of Legolas, probably because he was an elf, as they couldn't think of any other reason. Aragorn looked at him, and his eyes confirmed Legolas' guess.  
Kienariel bowed, bending her head and placing her pale, thin hand upon her heart.  
"I am Kienariel. I do no speak your language well." she said haltingly, her words strengthening the statement, "But I am glad I found you all." she continued, "I think I know your plan, and what one of you carry."  
All were taken aback, but Kienariel continued, and if she noticed the shocked glances that were exchanged, she did not show that she noticed.  
"And I wish to come with you."  
  
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The whole company was now awake and sitting in a circle about the fire. Kienariel was sitting by her boulder and playing a bright little song on a silver pipe. The high, joyful notes fell shrilly in the sombre land, but Kienariel played on, facing away from the fellowship and towards the eastering wind.  
"Why should we add a tenth to our company? Did not Elrond himself choose nine to be our number? We should send her to Rivendell, if only so we may get Elrond's approval." argued the dwarf, Gimli. "And she's an elf! We already have one representative of that kindred, and two are certainly not needed!"  
"I agree with the dwarf." added Boromir "And she does not look like any sort of fighter and that might be are only reason to consider taking the elven maid along."  
"But what about Merry, Pippin and I?" argued Sam, looking up at the man of Gondor "We can't fight! Truth be told, we're about as useful here as a bunch of slugs in a garden, but we're here to help Mister Frodo, all the same." The two younger hobbits nodded in approval.  
"You are here to help support Frodo because you are his friends. We do not know her, we do not know if we may trust her and we do not know who she is and we should know all of those if we were to take her with us." reasoned Legolas.  
The argument continued. Boromir, Gimli and Legolas were against her joining the company and Sam, Pippin and Merry were for it.  
Frodo, Aragorn and Gandalf sat silently watching the quarrel's progress.  
"I see no reason to not take her if she can keep up the pace." said Frodo almost to himself. He did not see why she should not come. She would not slow the company down; she would be fleeter of foot than the hobbits.  
Aragorn turned to look at Frodo, looking at him thoughtfully, and then stood. The noise died down.  
"I think Frodo is right." The other man, dwarf and elf looked at the hobbit. "There truly is no reason we should not take her. If she is false, then she would not be able to creep away, for we will soon have to set a watch each night. If she is anything like friend Legolas then I would wager she would go faster than most of the company."  
Boromir eyed Aragorn with a doubtful eye. "But she cannot fight." he said, a bit to loud.  
Aragorn wheeled around to face Boromir. The two sets of sea-grey eyes flashed at each other. After a moment's pause Boromir turned away.  
"We do not truly know that, son of Denathor." Aragorn countered. "And as Sam said, even if she can not fight, neither can the hobbits!"  
The ranger's gaze swept over Gimli, then Legolas, and Boromir.  
"Yes, he is right." said Gimli a little dully "It would not matter."  
Legolas merely nodded.  
"And Boromir, if you are worried about her ability to fight, you might instruct her while we have time." Aragorn added, and then sat down.  
Sam leaned over to Pippin "Well Master Took, if you ever be wantin' to take up arguing then I think you should ask Strider to instruct us! Why I warrant that if we had had him in the Old Forest he could have argued with that old willow to let you go!"  
Pippin nodded, grinning.  
But Boromir threw his last play. "She's a woman!"  
  
Up on the hill, Kienariel spun about. They now remembered that she had stopped playing her pipe some time ago. In one liquid movement she jumped down from her rock and landed on squatting on her feet. Sam recalled how she was having trouble standing a while ago and wondered at the change. She rose and stood before him.  
"I am a woman. Your eyes work good. Very clever, you are. Father proud to have such a clever son." she said, teeth bared in a faked smile. Legolas saw her eyes were dark again.  
Boromir said nothing.  
"Man very clever, yes. Good fighter too, or so he think. I fight you now and we see if I fight good too?"  
Boromir's hand went to his sword hilt. There was nothing. Kienariel bowed and handed back Boromir his sword, scabbard and belt.  
"Sometimes clever man need to think more, act less." she counselled.  
Boromir took back his things, looking shocked at the elven woman before him.  
"Friends now? I may come with you?" she asked, looking at Frodo, Gandalf and Aragorn to her right.  
"Yes." replied Gandalf, looking at the rest of the company "I think you may."  
Kienariel's face brightened in a smile. She embraced Boromir, her arms pinning his to his side as he was buckling his belt.  
"No hard feelings?" she enquired, releasing him.  
His dignity severely shaken, he nodded mutely and bowed jerkily, not sure if he was required to embrace her back. Everyone else struggled to hide smiles.  
  
Kienariel smiled even wider and then turned to the rest of the company.  
"So."  
She looked at them all. Looking into the eyes of all, save Legolas.  
"When do we start?" she asked eyes wide and curious.  
What tension there was snapped and all laughed. All laughed from their hearts save Legolas and the tension stayed with the Silvan elf.  
  
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OK, OK! I know it seems obvious that Legolas and Boromir will form an evil gang and throw Kienariel into a river with her feet stuck in cement blocks, but I honestly hoped it wouldn't be THAT obvious.  
Just kidding. Keep your eye out for the plot, it'll appear any time now… oO^_^Oo 


	2. Green Lightning

Here it is! Chapter 2 has arrived! I am terribly sorry for the long wait, I hope you all won't pelt me with E-tomatoes!  
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Kienariel sweated as she parried Boromir's thrust with her sword.  
"Certainly not my weapon of choice!" she thought.  
Boromir forced her back to a boulder; she leaned back, trying to throw him off. She felt her dark hair sticking to the side of her face. Boromir chuckled,  
"Enough?" he asked  
"No!" Kienariel gasped "Merry! Pippin! Reinforcements!"  
With a shout the two young hobbits tackled Boromir to the ground. Flat on his back, pinned down by two hobbits and Kienariel with a sword, laughing so hard she might need to lean on it, he surrendered. He dropped his sword, smiling widely.  
"You have worthy allies, lady Kienariel!" he laughed  
Gandalf and Aragorn looked up from their planning to watch the amusing scene. Kienariel looked back at them, grinning.  
She shivered suddenly. She turned slowly; afraid at what might be watching, unnoticed by the others. It was that elf! He was watching her with a disapproving glare. No, it was disgust. What was wrong with him? What did he suspect? She tried to look away now, but she couldn't help it, their eyes met.  
Black. Green lightning lit up her mind. Agony.  
Kienaiel groaned and put her hand to her forehead.  
She almost sank to the ground, so consuming was the pain. It ripped through her mind and spread through her body to her heart. She bent over, struggling to breathe.  
"Kienariel!" Pippen's anxious voice brought her back to the surface and she opened her eyes. The pain was gone, as quickly as it had come.  
Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf, Aragorn, the elf - they were all looking at her. Those other two hobbits: what were their names? Frodo and Sam turned to look too. The dwarf looked up from where he was sitting below them. Why did they all have to look at her like that?  
She smiled down at the concerned hobbit, or she forced a smile.  
"I am good. Side pains, not used to such hard work." she explained, clutching her side.  
"Please! Look away! Do not worry! I am fine! Look away!" Kienariel pleaded silently.  
Yet everyone still continued to stare at her, she looked at them all - except the elf, but one by one most turned away. Aragorn walked over to her, smiling a little.  
"Perhaps it is your punishment for calling in outside help in weapons practice. Come, sit down and get your breath back."  
Kienariel looked dazedly down at her boots. "Yes, Amarald." she replied, mocking meekness, and she sat down heavily next to Gandalf.  
Aragorn sat down beside her with a quizzical look on his face.  
"Amarald? Lady, my name is Aragorn."  
Kienariel seemed to come out of deep thoughts.  
"Oh! I am sorry! I know you are Aragorn. I not thinking good, just then."  
"Amarald is?" he asked  
"Amarald?" she repeated "Amarald is my - what do you say? Son of same mother?" she prompted  
"Brother?"  
"Yes! Amarald is my brother. Looks very like you, but his eyes are brown." she stared into the ranger's eyes. He shifted a little under their green-grey stare, but still looked back. "But you, you have sad eyes." she said quietly.  
  
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Legolas had the watch around midnight. The stars were covered in a heavy, sable blanket, the moon sometimes showing his pale face through tears in the clouds. The elf walked in complete silence about the ring in which the fellowship slept. The hobbits, in a neat little bunch, were snoring rather loudly. Boromir lay below the hobbits. Aragorn slept alone, closer to Mithrandir. Mithrandir: well, you could never tell with an Istari. The dwarf snored with a noise like an avalanche; Legolas grinned to himself. With a din like that it was a surprise the Nazgûl weren't on them all in a minute. Kienariel was sleeping in a ball equidistant from Aragorn and Mithrandir. Her eyes were shut, their short lashes fastened to lock in her dreams. Legolas wondered at this; elves slept with their eyes open! Why did Kienariel sleep with hers shut? The moon came out behind a cloud and its pale light shone upon her face, and in her sleep she smiled. Legolas bent down, so slowly that if any other creature was watching they would have thought that a statue of some elven hero had come to life to walk amongst the living. Her face was transformed to ivory, her hair a snow dappled dark, and her lips the palest pink in the moon's shimmering beams. Legolas' fingers were so close to her face that he could almost feel the warmth of her skin. Then moon was hidden by a great cloud bank, the light faded and the night darkened again. Three of Legolas' fingers touched her forehead.  
Black. Green lightning. Stinging pain.  
A snakelike voice snarled in some unintelligible language his mind.  
He jumped back and sprang almost a yard away.  
Kienariel twitched.  
What secrets did she still withhold? What was it about her that warned Legolas to be careful? Why did she not seem to be whom she said she was?  
Legolas woke Gimli, allowing himself to give the dwarf a little shake rougher than he might have given to another companion, but that didn't wake the dwarf. Legolas tweaked the dwarf's beard until it eventually brought him round. After patting the grumpy dwarf on the head Legolas went to where his blankets lay. He fell into the waking dreams of his people, staring open-eyed into the heavens and watching the stars dance across the sky. Only one thing troubled his mind: Kienariel.  
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There. As promised we have Legolas thinking about the girl. He's not going to take her on a date, so don't ask me to alter the plot to make it happen. This story ought to go beyond "The Return of the King" so I can't possibly write in every minor scene. If you want the whole book with Kienariel in it I suggest you scratch out some of the things the hobbits and elves say mentally and make her say it! ^_^ Thank you for reading, please review! 


	3. Caradhras

Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of the LOTR characters. Legolas is my husband, but he's not my posession.  
Claimer: I own the character of Kienariel and all of the songs in all languages that I ever write! It is my own language, but I can't tell you what it is now because it gives away everything.  
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The wind shrieked about the mountain, howling and hurling rocks from the heights with cracks like the gnashing of teeth. The fellowship was struggling up the pass of Caradhras – and the mountain was proving itself as a deadly adversary.  
Sam stopped to catch his breath and looked up, dismayed, at the swirling, snow-heavy clouds which churned, tattering on the Red Horn's rough head.  
"I don't like this at all." He panted "Snow's all right on a fine morning, but I like to be in bed when it's falling. I wish this lot would go off to Hobbiton! Folk might welcome it there."  
Aragorn and Legolas led in front, scouting out a trail the rest of the fellowship could follow. After came Gandalf, snow resting in small drifts on his hat and eyebrows. Boromir then came, trying to kick aside snow with his boots for the comfort of the hobbits, and Gimli, who, stout dwarf that he was, was grumbling in the cold. Frodo was following Gimli, trying to look brave and stern as the important Ringbearer. Sam led Bill on behind his master. Merry had his hands scrunched up inside his many layers of shirts and every now and then he would reach out piteously to try and grab Bill's tail. Pippen was struggling in the rear, aided by Kienariel, who was nearly as cold as he.  
"Wait!" she called up ahead  
The rest of the company turned back to look at her. She had her hand on Pippen's shoulder, but was half supporting, half leaning on the short hobbit. She was a light shade of blue, akin to the shade seen high in the mountains. She stood out amongst the pure white flurries like a patch of sky showing through a roof of cloud.  
"Lady Kienariel! Are you alright?" said Frodo, terrified.  
She looked confused, and tilted her head to the side.  
"Do I not look it?" she asked, puzzled, "I feel cold, but I am good." She said, smiling, blue lips pulling back to reveal teeth almost as white as the snow.  
If this was meant to comfort the rest of the company it failed utterly in its purpose. Frodo nodded, unable to speak. Kienariel studied the frightened faces before her with a fear growing inside her. She looked down at her arm as it rested on Pippen's shoulder and she looked for a moment as if she would scream. Perhaps she mastered herself or perhaps she never would have screamed at all, but she stood in the snow, unmoving. Disquieted by the blue woman behind before them, the rest of the company turned and their tired feet were reinvigorated by a sort of disgust and fright. Kienariel, whom Pippen had left to struggle on by himself, was soon left far in the back and, as the snow fell thicker from the boiling, angry clouds, she was eventually lost to sight.  
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And with those words a bright fire leapt up from the structure of branches.  
"If there are any to see, then I at least am revealed to them," Gandalf said, pulling back his staff from the growing fire. "I have written 'Gandalf is here' in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin."  
This may have been so, but the hearts of the weary fellowship were lifted by the merry crackle and light of the playing flames, despite the danger. They stood about it in a ring, slowly warming as the wild wind shrieked at being so defeated. Pippen looked up from his study of the fire. He looked about the circle of contented faces with a look of growing worry on his face.  
"Where's Kienariel?" he asked urgently.  
It was now realized that she hadn't been seen or spoken to since before the snow had begun to fall in earnest, since they all had stared at her so.  
Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas, being the largest, were sent back down the trail they had just come up. All three were barely able to see a yard in front of them. Even Legolas' keen Elven eyes failed him in the harsh snow fall, to say nothing of the Men behind him. They had stumbled down the slope some ten yards when Legolas, who had been leading the trio down the hill in the hopes that his eyes would be sharper than Aragorn's, saw Kienariel sitting on an edge that overlooked a sharp turn in the trail which wound around from where she sat to below where she kicked her legs contentedly in the knife-sharp wind. She seemed less blue than she had been, but her skin had instead taken on an almost transparent look, as if her blood was water that had frozen. She was wearing no more layers of clothing than she had an hour ago and sections of her hair were frozen into icy strands. She must have been sitting there for some time, because snow had piled up in her lap, although she had obviously been pushing it off every now and again. She looked up at Legolas as Aragorn came up behind him.  
"You two are alright?" she asked, concerned.  
They were left speechless. Had they not come down to rescue her from freezing to death while she was too stubborn or cold to come up to the fire? Yet here she was, and not only was she not in trouble, she thought they might be in trouble! Aragorn nodded in response to her question and Legolas merely shut his mouth.  
"Good." She said simply, and went back to her calm vigil over the cliff edge, still kicking her legs.  
They stayed that way for a while, Legolas and Aragorn staring at Kienariel as she smiled peacefully at the storm that hurled itself against the ledge where she sat. So it was that Boromir, who had dropped back behind the other two to clear the path back to the fire for their return, at last found the three of them. He stared, and then leaned close to Aragorn to whisper "Is she well?" Aragorn silently nodded again. Boromir leaned forward and tapped Kienariel on her opaque arm.  
"Lady, will you not come back with us to the camp?" he asked.  
She turned, face expressionless, to stare into his face. Once again there was unbroken silence but for the wind moaning and hissing in their ears.  
"If that will stop you all from staring, yes." Kienariel said at last.  
It was if a spell was lifted with those words, Aragorn and Legolas looked away from the blue girl on the ledge and Boromir took his finger from her arm.  
The four hobbits cheered as the four returned from the dark of the storm.  
"Where were you?" Pippen asked Kienariel, smiling with relief.  
Kienariel chuckled; impressed by the warm welcome she was receiving. "Behind. I had stopped about the same time as you did and-" She broke off, staring behind Pippen with confusion in her face. Pippen turned around to see what she was looking at, but he saw nothing strange. The fire was crackling pleasantly and Gimli was warming his hands directly opposite from them.  
"What are you looking at?" he asked, curious.  
Aragorn and Gandalf turned about from their conversation to see what was happening. Legolas also turned, anxiously wondering what the strange maid was doing – now. Kienariel was staring at the fire, mouth open. She said nothing but stepped closer, left hand outstretched as if to touch it, and there was no sound but the fire and the wind. Slowly she stretched out her arm towards the flames. She seemed about to touch the flames when she brought her hand back with a jerk.  
"Aie! Huar!" she said loudly, waving her hand to cool it off and stepping back from the fire. All now turned to see what the matter was, but few noticed, save those with sharper eyes, that her hand had turned a golden colour where it had been burned. Within moments she stepped back towards the ring around the fire, all blue again.  
"I'm sorry." She sighed, and lapsed into silence.  
Once again the only sound was the fire and the wind and all fell to thinking. Every now and then someone would look up and about the circle of faces held close about the fire, and then would look down again. Gandalf was thinking of the path they had yet to take across the mountains, Aragorn was resting with his heart in Rivendell, Sam was thinking about the garden in Bag End and hoping no frost would kill the flowers, Legolas was wandering through his father's halls in Mirkwood. Yet all gradually became aware of a singing voice. It was singing softly, softer than the flames' crackling, which was almost drowned itself in the roar of the wind. Snatches of words they heard, but gradually they were heard clearer and louder. The tune was sad, lonely and bewildered. The words were slowly half sung, half chanted and they brought a longing to the listener for something they could not grasp. Frodo found that he could remember them as well as all the songs in Elvish that he had ever heard. Frodo wrote them down later not as they sounded, but as was dictated to him:  
  
"…Flyener, flyener! Shere hesh! Shere bledvad!  
E wyener lyyeny kesh lori jeroi ne the!  
Ber eer hesh kesh me meyl teg ne?  
Ne do teg meyl, do teg meyl.  
Do zettam kesh do teg meyl,  
Wyener thava mukel ner fine…"  
  
The voice became quiet again, and the words could not be heard. Legolas alone of the fellowship looked up to see Kienariel staring over the fire into the night. He noted that her skin was back to what he assumed to be her natural skin colour. Soon the song became louder again, and this time in the common speech:  
  
"And how can you wander when you would be there?  
And how can you sing when your voice would sing elsewhere?  
Return to your heart, and tell it of your love.  
Return to at least get your heart back!"  
  
There she stopped, and looked up and met Legolas' eyes. She blinked, forehead creasing, and looked down. The wind, which had seemed to cease to make noise, howled once more.  
"Sorry." She said again, to no one in particular.  
"That was beautiful." Said Sam, "I should like to learn that!"  
"Yes!" agreed Merry  
"You liked it?" Kienariel asked in obvious disbelief  
"It was sad." Said Frodo quietly, "But I did indeed like it."  
"What language was that?" asked Gandalf.  
Kienariel blushed. "Allow me to tell you that later, will you?" She asked, truly hoping they would and cursing herself for her stupidity in singing. It was bad enough that she had looked like she had turned to ice in the cold, but now the singing? How could she have possibly been so pathetically careless? "Please, please let me tell later!" she prayed in her mind.  
"Very well, as you wish." Gandalf said, smiling fatherly. Kienariel smiled back, feeling a hint of "In your own time." in the wizard's words.  
  
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Yay! That's it! A treasure chest of gold each to Legolas and Gandalf for being INTELLIGENT! 


	4. The Sun over Dunland

OK, here is chapter 4... I'm sorry I haven't got it to you earlier; you have my permission to send me a herring in the mail and bill me for it.  
Once again, all the words that are NOT Elvish and NOT English are mine. Kienariel is mine and Legolas is MINE, MINE, MINE, YOU FOOL! He's all mine! Stay away!  
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The fire burned low, and the last faggot was thrown on.  
"The night is getting old," Said Aragorn "The dawn is not far off."  
"If any dawn can pierce these clouds." Said Gimli.  
Boromir stepped out of the circle and stared up into the blackness. "The snow is growing less," He said "And the wind is quieter."  
Frodo gazed wearily at the flakes still falling out of the dark to be revealed white for a moment in the light of the dying fire; but for a long time he could see no sign of their slackening. Then suddenly, as sleep was beginning to creep over him again, he was aware that the wind had indeed fallen, and the flakes were coming larger and fewer.   
Very slowly a dim light began to grow. At last the snow stopped altogether.  
As the light grew stronger it showed a silent shrouded world. Below their refuge were white humps and domes and shapeless deeps beneath which the path they had trodden was altogether lost; but the heights above were hidden in great clouds still heavy with the threat of snow.  
Gimli looked up and shook his head. "Caradhras has not forgiven us," He said "He has more snow to fling at us, if we go on. The sooner we go back and down the better."  
To this they all agreed, but their retreat was now difficult. It might well prove impossible. Only a few paces from the ashes of their fire the snow lay many feet   
deep, higher than the heads of the hobbits; in places it had been scooped and piled by the wind into great drifts against the cliff.  
"If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you," Said Legolas. The storm had troubled him little, and though Kienariel puzzled him more   
than ever now; he alone of the company remained still light of heart.  
"If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us," Answered Gandalf. "But I must have something to work on. I cannot burn snow."  
Kienariel smiled a little, appreciating Gandalf's humour in so serious a situation.  
"Well," said Boromir, "When heads are at a loss, bodies must serve, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is snow-clad, our   
path, as we came up, turned around that shoulder of rock yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove   
easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess."  
"Then let us force a path thither, you and I!" said Aragorn.  
Aragorn and Boromir moved off and were soon heavily toiling in the heavy white drifts. In places the snow was breast-high, and Boromir often seemed to be swimming   
with his great arms.  
Legolas watched them for a while with a smile upon his lips, and then he turned to the others. His eyes flashed momentarily to Kienariel, a plan in his mind.   
"The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming; and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow - an   
Elf."  
He sprang, agile as a cat in his light shoes and stood on the snow, his feet making little imprint. Pippin marvelled that the Elf stood firmly on snow through which he knew, he himself would sink. Kienariel's eyes, strangely, were almost as wide as Pippin's. Legolas looked down at her.  
"Do you wish to come?" Legolas asked lightly, extending a hand to help her up. She looked at the snow, her face flushing, and not from the cold. She seemed indecisive.  
"Come, let us run across the snow and find the Sun." Legolas pressed.  
"I - I think I shall sink." She said with some timid discomfiture.  
"Of course not." replied Legolas dismissively, stretching his hand further towards her.  
She clasped his hand reluctantly and delicately braced one foot against the snow. With a strong tug that pulled him deeper into the snow Legolas lifted her up,   
but, as she predicted, she sank right through the snow. He gasped, as did those standing near, for not only had she sunk, she had gone and left no trace upon the snow. It   
was as if she had never touched it. An instant later her head pushed up through the snow and it fell down around her like droplets of water.  
"You see?" She said miserably, bobbing slowly up and down as if treading water. She looked around at Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Gimli. She sighed. "Can't   
get any worse now." She thought. "Are you still to find the Sun?" She asked.  
Legolas nodded dumbly.  
She frowned, but then looked as if an idea had struck her. Wriggling, pulling and kicking she eventually was able to sit upon the snow through which she had fallen earlier. She stood up gingerly, breathed deeply and tossed her head to remove the snow. "Let us go then." She said, and shot off across the snow. Legolas followed her, casting one questioning look back at Gandalf and then speeding into the distance. They soon passed the Men toiling in the snow. Boromir paused gaping at the running elves, but Aragorn smiled as he watched the streaming gold and rippling sienna hair fly off into the distance.  
Legolas looked at Kienariel. Her face was flushed with the cold and her eyes bright. Her feet sent up a spray of light snow where they touched the brittle   
surface, although Legolas' merely left a light print. They flew fleetly across the white snow, and as they ran it quickly depleted. At last they found the familiar bleached grasses of Hollin rising from patches in the snow under their feet. Kienariel hummed a bright tune as   
she ran, and she began to skip. Legolas laughed merrily. She stopped her song and looked at him as she ran, tilting her head and studying him. He felt unnerved under her   
forward stare, but stared back.  
"You are very strange." She said slowly.  
"So are you!" Legolas replied, "The strangest Elf I've ever met!"  
Her brows furrowed. She sprang ahead like a deer through the grass. Legolas breathed hard, chasing after her. She stopped atop a high hill and surveyed the land around. They had come far, but the Sun was not to be seen amidst the clouds, though these were lighter than the sky above Caradhras. Legolas halted, shading his eyes from the glare of the clouds and peering West, sighting distant Hollin ridge, and looking down to the Sirannon and far off to Dunland. Over Dunland he saw the Sun dancing through the clouds in the distance, but she was far off and would not break through the clouds. He sighed.  
"We have come a league or more, I make it, yet the Sun is far away."  
Kienariel accepted his words in silence, taking in the silent country around her. "This is a beautiful land." She breathed, looking down to Celebdil, or the Silvertine   
as Men know it. She sat down upon a patch of dry grass and looked West. They stood long in silence, observing the surrounding area.  
"What is that marshy place yonder?" She asked, pointing away over the grassy hills and barren rocks.  
"What?" Said Legolas, leaning his head closer to hers, trying to see where it was she was pointing to.  
"There, by the river." She said, the slightest hint of frustration audible in her voice, though whether it was frustration with herself or with him, Legolas was not sure. He   
looked, following her gaze, but saw nothing, be it the slightest hint of green West-South-West. He stood up, marvelling at her eyesight.  
"You have keen eyes!" He said, "What you must see must be Nîn-in-Eilph, and the Mitheithel; and they are some fifty leagues off!" He said, awed at her sharp eyesight.Kienariel tried the words in her mouth, mouthing them. Legolas looked amused.  
"Nîn-in-Eilph?" She said, questioning her pronounciation.  
Legolas was taken aback. Her accent was so strange and her grasp on the Common Speech itself was not as firm as it might be, but the Elvish words had slid off her tongue as well, if not better, than Aragorn or Gandalf!  
"Very - very good!" He said, impressed.  
"Something to do with a swans?" She questioned again, distractedly excited enough that she erred in her grammer.  
"Yes!" Legolas said, even more suprised. "Swanfleet is its name in the tongues of Men, and the River Mitheithel is Hoarwell. But tell me, do you speak Elvish after all?"  
She looked confused, and then shook her head "No".  
"How did you guess then, that 'eilph' was 'swan'?" He said with growing interest.  
"Well," She seemed reluctant, "It sounds like a word I know for swan. It was merely a guess." She didn't sound as if she wished to go further with the conversation, but Legolas pushed on.  
Kienariel sighed and looked up at him. "Ilph." She said, pronouncing it with a long 'ee' sound and dropping the last syllable. "The double, no! The plural, is 'iliiph'."  
Legolas was enthralled. "You must speak some version of Elvish! Sindarin, it seems. 'Swan' is 'alph' and the plural is 'eilph'."  
Kienariel tasted the words, and then brightened. "That must be! What is the word in Elvish for 'ocean'?" She asked.  
"Gaearon." Legolas replied instantly. Kienariel's smile fell.  
"No, that does not match. The word is 'unles'ata'."  
"Oon-leh-sooh-ah-tah?" Legolas said slowly.  
"Oon-LAY-suh-ah-tah." Kienariel corrected, resting her chin in her hands and looking off over Hollin.  
Legolas mouthed the word, unused to the strange arrangement of sounds.  
"Let us continue this comparison." Kienariel said at last. Legolas nodded and she continued, "What is the word for 'water'?"  
"Nen." He answered.  
"No, that does not match. I know it to be 's'at'."  
"What about 'forest'?  
"'Turr'."  
"In Elvish it is 'tuar'!"  
"That at least matches!" She said ecstatically, smiling. Legolas himself could not help but smile at her sudden childish delight. She looked at him, "What does your name mean?"  
Legolas was taken aback. "My name?"  
She nodded.  
"Green leaf."  
"Which word means which?"  
"My name is of a different dialect, the Silvan dialect."  
"You do not speak..." She faltered "Sindarin?" She looked discouraged.  
"No." He replied.  
"Which is more widely spoken?" She asked slowly.  
"Sindarin."  
"Ah! That is good." She said, relieved and smiling. Her sea-grey eyes danced as she looked at him. Legolas was unknowingly mesmerised, studying the blends of colours, the foamy whites and greens and hints of dark, green depths. She blinked and leaned back, uncomfortable and her eyebrows raised.  
"Legolas?"  
He blinked, suddenly aware again of Kienariel. "Your pardon, but I have never seen eyes that - that particular colour before."  
She smiled softly. "Sea-green." She gazed out over Dunland, as if to pierce the distance between her and the waters. "I wish I could see it now." She said, and her voice was sad, "I can almost hear the waves upon the shore." She rested her head in her hands again and studied the ground.  
Legolas sat in amazed silence. "You have seen the sea?" He asked, eyes wide.  
She looked up, politely suprised. "Have you not?"  
"Of course not!" Legolas said "I, I would - it would be dangerous."  
"Dangerous?" Kienariel repeated, voice still soft yet incredulous.  
Legolas shook his head and leaned back, supporting himself with his arms. "You are no Elf of any kind I know."  
Kienariel's eys flashed. She opened her mouth to say something angrily, but Legolas let himself fall back and lay back upon the grass and did not continue. Her eyes softened again. She gazed westward. They stayed there in silence for a time, until Kienariel stood up at last and stretched her arms luxuriously. Legolas chuckled.  
"You look like one of the hobbits when you do that." He said lazily.  
"Come on. We should go back to the others." She reminded him, and took off, fleet-footed and graceful across the snow.  
Legolas lept up after her and they ran side by side. Soon they were upon the higher slopes of Caradhras, picking their way lightly across the snow. Aragorn and Boromir came into view, forcing through the last great drift in the high snow. Kienariel looked at it, noticing that high as it was, it was little more than an ell in width.  
"Perhaps the Dwarf was right in thinking that the storm was the malice of the mountain." She wondered aloud and strode to meet the toiling men, followed by Legolas.  
"Aragorn! Boromir!" Legolas called. The two men looked up. "This last drift of yours is barely as dense as Gimli! A bit more and you shall be through!"  
Aragorn smiled and nodded his head. Boromir slammed the mound with his shoulder and it split down the middle, spilling light snow into the pathway but giving a glimpse at last of the light blanket of snow that covered the rest of their path. With one last heave the snow gave way. Boromir brushed himself off and caught his breath while Aragorn did what he could to widen the trail.  
"Thank you for your help, friend Legolas!" Aragorn called back as he stepped out to join Boromir. The men started back up the trail. Legolas and Kienariel sprang lightly over it and continued round the bend in the rock to that evening's campsite.  
"Vandana, but Aragorn reminds me of my brother!" Kienariel said wonderingly as she ran.  
Legolas ran back to join the rest of the Company with a light heart. He had at last made friends with Kienariel, although he still did not understand why she had seemed to dislike him in the beginning. He was glad, however, that there would be less tension in the Fellowship for him at least. Kienariel was bright and interested in the things around her and he would enjoy not being the only Elf in the expedition. Perhaps the Dwarf would be less rude around a lady, but you never could tell. Dwarves were strange folk. Legolas fell to wondering, as he did so often, where Kienariel was from and what language it was that she spoke. What had made her very blood seem to freeze so last night? And what made it that first she sank through the snow and then stood on the snow as any elf would? She was certainly not a human, not a Dwarf, not a Hobbit - he amused himself with that image. She must be some race of Elf, and a rare race at that. How could she have a brother who bore resemblance to Aragorn? Aragorn was had proud and noble features, but his features were not those of an Elf's. Did she merely mean his personality? Was that why she seemed to feel closer to him?  
Legolas searched for the answers to these questions back at the end of Boromir and Aragorn's pathway, waiting with the hobbits who had been carried through, but no answers came.  
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There ya have it! Chapter 4! I'll start working on 5 as soon as I can. Thank you for waiting! 


	5. At the Gates

Yes! It's chapter 5! I really don't want to have to write through the entire frikking book, and this is pretty long already, so I'm going to shorten it up a little. Don't worry (in   
case you were) because I've got a WHOLE plot layed out until.... Well, can't tell you that. 2 much of a spoiler. ^_^ I love the power!  
  
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Boromir paced anxiously back and forth over the gravely ground at the Gates of Moria. Why was Gandalf taking so long? Did he not hear the howls of the wolves?   
Boromir's hand strayed to his sword hilt, flexing his fingers restlessly over the hilt. This was a cowardly path for a warrior! He would have taken the open road through   
the land of the Rohirrim, the sworn allies of Gondor. Boromir sat down heavily on the shifting gravel, angrily hurling a loose stone into the dark murky pool. The ripples   
spread with a sickening laziness out about the pool to lap the scummy shores fitfully. Kienariel started and shuddered as she studied the slimy water. Boromir watched her   
carefully.  
She had risen high in the esteem of the Man of Gondor. He had been in doubt of her worthiness to travel in the fellowship, despite the aptitude she showed in   
learning the usage of a sword, she was, after all, a woman. And something had bothered him at some deeper level about the strange elven maid in men's clothes. After the   
retreat down the mountain they had settled in a ring of stones some four leagues from Caradhras, pursued by wargs. A fire had been built for protection, and those who   
could bear arms readied themselves to fight. Kienariel and the hobbits had drawn their weapons, but were closest to the fire and it was hoped that they would not have to   
fight unless the wargs broke through the ring. The wargs had surrounded them, cruel eyes glinting in the darkness and snarls curling and snapping down the wind.  
At an unspoken command from the head warg they sprang into the circle. The warriors: Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir killed many, but many more of   
the evil, twisted wolves poured into the circle. Glamdring flashed in Gandalf's hand, Anduril flamed red, Gimli's axe whistled and Legolas' arrows flew true to the throats   
of the wargs. Then suddenly Kienariel was fighting with them, but not with her sword. She fought with a weapon Boromir had never seen before in his life. A medium   
length wooden shaft like that of a spear, she held in her hand. At the head a thin, elliptical blade, there seemed to be, which looked to be of a strong, heavy metal. She   
swung it sometime like an axe, stabbed like a steel and sliced like a sword. Where had it come from? Kienariel fought, leaping out of the way to heights Boromir imagined   
he could never come near to himself. Agile, as Legolas was and the other elves Boromir had seen in his short mortal life, but her movements spoke with a subtle anger   
and wrath that he had never witnessed before and he could not liken it to anything else he had ever beheld. She would plant the end of her... weapon in the ground, swing   
about it lightly, land, raise it, kill her warg, leap lightly over another warg, spin, stab, pull, step, slice again and again with fluid motions woven into one unbroken dance, the   
anger simmering under the surface all the while. Boromir did not think it had been anger at the wargs, but it had been there all the while and that, perhaps, had been one of   
the things that bothered him. She was a good fighter, Boromir had decided, even though the fight against the wargs had been surprisingly short, thanks to Gandalf. Boromir   
was more interested in Kienariel's truth than before, and he wanted answers to the questions that nagged him about her.  
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Aragorn lifted the last of the packs from Bill the pony's back. He looked sideways at Kienariel. The pack with its share of rations and blankets that they had   
given her rested against one of the great trees that stood like living pillars at either sides of the Gates of Moria. The spear-like thing which she carried gleamed silver in the   
reflected moonlight and starlight of the iithildin/i. The ranger shook his head. How many mysteries are you hiding, Kienariel? He wondered, Who are you, really?   
Aragorn was sure she was more than she seemed. He could not think of what she reminded him of, but it was something Gandalf or Elrond had said to him long ago. He   
was sure he had heard it in hs youth in Rivendell. Something he had heard whispers of in Dol Amroth, something he had heard hints of in Dorwinion, superstitions along   
the Bay of Belfalas, myths in Haradwaith and muttered curses of corsairs of Umbar. Rivendell. His mind wandered back along the the East Road and back to that fair   
valley and its inhabitants - especially a certain inhabitant.  
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Gandalf sat down at last in frustration, searching his mind for a word that could be the password to the Mines. He was already troubled and puzzled enough   
without this! He squinted for a moment as he moved into the reflection of the iithildin/i on the blade of Kienariel's weapon. The wizard's mind was distracted.   
Kienariel and her weapon reminded him of something he had not heard of for long, long lives of men. He was sure of what she was, who she really might be and what she   
might be doing so far from home. She was different from the descriptions he had heard, of different nature and manner than what he had expected. Little was known of her   
people, and far less of her homeland. Were the cruel peoples he had heard of so often in tales of some other nation? The howls of wolves brought his mind back to its   
former path, and he turned his thoughts inward to the reservoirs of information and lore he had stored, searching for the password.  
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Legolas watched Kienariel as she walked back and forth nervously under the mighty tree under which she had stored her gear. She was a fell fighter, he   
deemed, and far more about her was hidden than he had ever guessed. The aura of mystery which surrounded her was heavy and dense. He had glimmers, occasionally,   
of what he guessed to be her true nature, a gesture, an expression, a reaction, but he could not guess what the clues might mean. Bitter, cruel and hard she seemed at   
times, full of anger and animosity directed for reasons he could not guess. She had laughed with cold glee when Gandalf had set the trees alight upon the hill in the battle   
against the wargs, and Legolas had been saddened the lives of the mighty pines had been brought to an end so soon; yet she had been fearful all the while of the hot   
flames.  
At other times she was as warm and kind as the sun in the sky and bright and as beautiful as the stars of Elbereth in the heavens. Laughing with the hobbits,   
ruffling Aragorn's hair, jesting with Gandalf, humming her strange tunes and singing softly under her breath that the words might not be heard. She was the strangest Elf   
Legolas had ever met, and he was not sure of what people she was. She seemed interested in the things that grew upon the earth, green and gold alive under the gentle   
sun, but also questioned the Dwarf, Gimli, about the caves and mountains, mining techniques, stones and minerals and caverns deep and dark away from the free air and   
stars. Gimli had seemed doubtful at first of her earnestness, but was flattered at the Elf's interest of what lay beneath the roots of her people's beloved trees. Legolas was   
weary of the endless speeches about mining shafts and tunnels and slabs of hard stone. He could not imagine how Kienariel kept awake, but she would question the   
Dwarf and offer her own knowledge of such things until Gimli would hint in loud conversations, his eyes straying to Legolas, that she was the most polite Elf he had ever   
met. Legolas did not think that Gimli's father had spoken well of his imprisonment in Legolas' own royal father, Thranduil's, prisons to his son. Legolas could remember   
that day well enough, the first haughty dwarf had been captured - his name had been Thorin Oakenshield or some other Dwarf of illustrious title - and the other twelve   
had been brought in later, Gloín among them with the old hobbit, Bilbo, secretly padding along, invisible. What a laugh Legolas had had when he had found the truth! His   
father had been in a rage to discover that the prisoners had escaped while the guards slept like the dead with empty wine bottles clutched still in their hands.  
Ah, but Kienariel was a mystery. All his long years Legolas had not met anyone who made him more curious. Sometimes he wasn't sure if they could trust her.   
She simply wouldn't speak about herself. Whenever she spoke with him she always parried Legolas' subtle questions stubbornly, but so politely and respectfully that   
Legolas felt dazed at the end of the conversations. He should have been more cunning in speech, son of a king as he was.  
His eyes followed the curving Elvish script over the gates... He couldn't read the curving letters, although the they seemed to speak to him on a deep,   
unreachable level. Wolves were howling in the distance, and Legolas inspected his quiver carefully, steeling himself for another battle. If only Gandalf could find the   
password! Or perhaps a fight to the death with the wild wolves in the free air under the sky would be preferable to a long journey in the dead darkness of the mines.   
Gandalf sat up quickly.  
"Of course, of course! Absurdly simple, as are most riddles when you see the answer." He strode up to the gates and in a confident voice said: "imellon/i".  
The doors swung slowly open and a musty air wafted out of the impenetrable sable cloak within. The company asked Gandalf how he had found the password, but Legolas   
noticed that Kienariel was staring at the murky waters of the pool with narrowed eyes. Finally she shuddered, and turned back to the group. Legolas too, had sensed   
something strange in the air, but he had thought it was from the mines.They began to prepare to enter the mines, and the group was mainly inside until.... A slithering noise. A sound of something hitting the ground and being   
dragged.  
"Help me!"  
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Hah ha! A sort of cliff-hanger here. You all know what happens next . . . 


	6. Into the Dark

It's my style when writing these kinds of fics to stick to the main story as much as possible. This is why, as you're probably noticed (cuz I'm a crappier writer than Tolkien), much and most of the important points in the plot are quoted directly from the book. I'm trying to make these few and far between, so please bear with me!   
Thank you all for the reviews. I just can't answer your questions now – it gives away waaaaaaaay too much!  
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br  
Without warning, a sickly-green tentacle erupted from the depths of the murky water and seized Frodo by the ankle, and began to drag him with great strength down to the slimy edge of the water. Frodo cried out in surprise and horror as he fell hard to the ground, scrabbling helplessly amongst the gravel for a handhold.  
"Sam!" He cried.  
br  
Bill the pony gave a terrified neigh and galloped wildly along the lakeside, his eyes wide and frantic with fear. Sam at once sprang after his beloved pony, but halted at his master's cry. Torn between two loves, he swayed in undecided limbo, aware that if he tarried longer precious time would be lost either way. At last he ran weeping and cursing to the aid of his master, hacking with his short sword at the twisting tentacle. The water of the lake boiled as some great movement disturbed deeper waters and stirred silt to further pollute the surface. The severed arm released Frodo, and Sam tried to pull him away from the treacherous shore, calling for help; but all were frozen in horror. At once the black waters erupted with more tentacles, all reaching, writhing and twisting out towards Frodo, Sam and the Company. Gandalf's cry woke them all from the dismayed stupor that had grasped the Company:  
br  
  
"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" He shouted.  
Not a moment too soon were Frodo and Sam on the threshold of Moria before the arms were entwining themselves around the ancient doors. Gandalf turned to search quickly for a word to close the doors, but the arms swung the heavy doors shut with tremendous strength and the Company was thrown into darkness. The sound of heavy stone upon stone thudded dully through the thick stone doors, and in the pitch black they could guess that they were sealed in: trapped.  
Legolas felt a tightening in his heart as he thought of the journey through the long, torturous path in oppressive night-dark of Moria. No, it was not even the dark of night. Night often has at least the light of stars or moon – there were no stars in this forsaken pit of the dwarves. What cruel twist of fate had brought him here?  
"Well, well!" Said Gandalf with resigned acceptance "The passage is blocked now and there is only one way out – on the other side of the mountains. I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up, and the trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful and had stood there so long."  
"I felt that something horrible was near from the moment that my foot first touched the water." Said Frodo.  
"As did I." Said Kienariel in a shaky voice. Legolas did not blame her, he was unnerved herself. He wished he could see Boromir, he was sure the Man was doubtful of her hardiness, and for some reason Legolas was indignant.  
"What did you feel?" Gandalf asked her quietly. From the shuffling sounds, it seemed that the wizard had stepped closer to her.  
"Something a-alive. Monstrous, but the feeling was…. distant." She stammered, aware that she was the centre of attention. The darkness pressed closer in the silence that followed her short statement.  
"What was the thing, or were there many of them?" Frodo asked, as if directing the question to the Company, although it was obvious that few could answer.  
"A single mind directed the arms." Kienariel said simply, still taking short nervous breaths.  
"I do not know," Answered Gandalf, "But the arms were at least all guided by one purpose. Something has crept, or has been driven out of dark waters under the mountains. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He did not speak aloud his thought on whatever it was that dwelt in the lake, nor did Kienariel, but Gandalf felt it boded ill that whatever it was that made its home in the lake, it had marked out Frodo first among all the Company.  
Boromir muttered under his breath, but the echoing stone magnified the sound to a hoarse whisper that all could hear: "In the deep places of the world! And thither are we going against my wish."  
"Oh dear, oh dear." Said Sam.  
"Quite what I was thinking." Said Pippin miserably.  
"Whatever our feelings, we have no choice now but to go on." Aragorn said calmly.  
"You are right, Aragorn." Said Gandalf. "We should start at once. I shall lead, and Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff!" Gandalf held his staff aloft and from its tip a faint radiance came. Gimli marvelled inwardly at the precise workmanship of the stairway, which was undamaged and sound although deep in the dust of years. They trudged on in silence up some two hundred shallow steps, which took them up at a slight but monotonous incline. Where they levelled out at last they found an arched passageway leading on into the infinite dark.  
"Let us sit and rest and have something to eat, here on the landing, since we can't find a dining-room!" Said Frodo. He had begun to shake off the terror of the clutching arm, and suddenly felt extremely hungry.  
This proposal was welcomed by all; and they sat down on the steps, dim figures in the gloom. After they had eaten, Gandalf gave them each a third sip of the miruvour of Rivendell.  
"It will not last much longer, I am afraid," He said "but I think we need it after the horror at the gate. And unless we have great luck, we shall need all that is left before we see the other side! Go carefully with the water, too! There are many streams and wells in the Mines, but they should not be touched. We may not have a chance of filling our skins and bottles till we come down into Dimrill Dale."  
Legolas sighed. Gandalf's words were light when weighed against the long, dangerous way they must take. Kienariel too was discouraged, but was also forming a plot in her mind concerning the water.  
"But no one must see." She thought. Gandalf gave her seeing look from under his bushy eyebrows, and she gave him an acknowledging nod, although she wondered whether he could read her thoughts. Yet then again, she felt that of the whole company, she trusted him most of all. The Man, Aragorn, she also trusted, if not only because he was so much like her brother in looks and manner. The Dwarf, she smiled inwardly, a charming, gruff character. The other Man and the hobbits she did not know well…. but the Elf confused her still. He defied much that she felt she knew of this land: this Bveness of legend.  
"How long is that going to take us?" Asked Frodo.  
"It depends on many chances. But going straight, without mishap or losing our way, we shall take three or four marches, I expect. It cannot be less than forty miles from West-door to East-gate in a direct line, and the road may wind much."  
  
After only a brief rest they started on their way again. Tired as they were, they were eager to get the journey over with, and for many hours they trudged on: following the light of Gandalf's staff. Behind Gandalf walked Gimli, who turned his head from side to side, trying to take in all the great vastness of Moria. Behind the Dwarf walked Frodo, with Sting drawn as a warning against orcs. No glimmer shone on its blade, or that of Glamdring, Gandalf's sword; and that was some comfort, for being the work of Elvish smiths in the Elder Days, these swords shone with a cold light if any Orcs were near at hand. Behind Frodo went Sam, and after him Legolas, then Kienariel, and then the young hobbits followed by Boromir. In the rear, grim and silent, walked Aragorn.  
The passage twisted and turned, much as Gandalf had predicted, and then dove downwards slowly for some 20 miles. At last the ground levelled out. The air grew hot and stuffy, but not unpleasant, and often they felt cool breezes curling out to brush their faces from out of doorways that led steeply up or down or opening blankly dark on either side. They spoke little, as the stone walls threw back eerie echoes.  
Boromir's thoughts were bitter. It had seemed to him cowardly to give Saruman such a wide berth in merely climbing the Redhorn Gate, and now skulking in the dark was too great a pain to be born. With some five battle-worthy men – and perhaps Kienariel – the company was certainly great enough to destroy whatever force the wizard might throw at them. And surely if the Ring…. no! Surely not. Boromir could not think in the hot, oppressive darkness. His thoughts waged open war against each other in his mind. A breath of fresh air kissed the dark air of the bloody battlefield – a strain of music. Boromir's ears strained to catch more of the releasing song.  
"Padorth vi morneh partalch,  
Dnichas ne sui danach,  
The cuaba phyna unlesata,  
The morneh phyna shi cayla."  
It was Kienariel singing again, in her strange language. Yet the sound seemed to have an effect on all of the company, calming nerves and lessening the weight of that oppressive dark. The tune was brave and bright, defiant of the shadow. She noticed Boromir's glance, and smiling she continued, as if she had read his thought, in the Common Tongue:  
"There is darkness before light shines once more,  
As before the singing sea, there lays a silver shore,  
Our mother, our mother how you call me back,  
Prophesies me of pain and fear, calling me back,  
Beckon not, I have one last task before I die,  
And unrobe to cold foam as upon thy breast I lie."  
"That's a sort of bittersweet song, Ms. Kienariel." Said Sam bashfully, "I don't quite like all that about dying and cold water."  
As if awakened from a reverie, Kienariel started. "You don't like to swim, then?"  
Sam's eyes widened to such a degree that it was comical. "Swim? Me, miss? I should think not!"  
"I could teach you." Offered Kienariel, turning about and walking backward so as to face him.  
"No, no miss. I couldn't, I'd - "  
"What he means to say is that he'd sink." Interjected Pippen, earning an elbow from Frodo.  
"And you? Do you swim, Pippen?" Kienariel asked earnestly.  
"Oh!" Pippen started, uncomfortable now that her enthusiastic attention was resting upon him. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Neither does Frodo or Merry, here."  
"Are all of your race land-bound, even as you are?" She asked in disbelief.  
"Well, for the greater most part, yes." Said Sam self-consciously.  
Kienariel clearly was having trouble comprehending an entire people who could not swim.  
"They are a people of fields and hills." Aragorn explained gently. "Even the smallest rivers are generally regarded as dangerous." The hobbits felt very foolish at this blunt appraisal of their instincts.  
"I am very sorry for you!" Said Kienariel earnestly "But then again, you are not built for swimming, are you?" She said with a smile, looking the hobbits up and down.  
Merry looked a little affronted, he being a Brandybuck and thus able to pride himself as being one of the more water-crafty hobbits. "Well, you are not made for water either, Kienariel."  
She gave him an odd look that Legolas did not miss. "What makes you say that?"  
"Well," He looked a little taken aback, but was smiling at his own discomfort "Most that go about on two legs aren't made for such a purpose!"  
Kienariel didn't seem to be able to come up with a response to that, but gave Merry a mysterious smile as she twirled about and continued walking.  
Silence fell again upon the company. All that could be heard were the shuffling beats of footsteps and breathing. Boromir's thoughts returned to their dark arguments, only to be interrupted again by song. He listened. It was a rustic, cheerful tune, and the voice was Sam's.  
"Upon the hearth, the fire is red,  
Beneath the roof, there is a bed,"  
The other hobbits laughed softly and joined in song.  
"But not yet weary are our feet,  
Around the corner we may meet,  
A sudden tree or standing stone,  
That none have seen but we alone."  
Legolas' thoughts however, were not disturbed by the hobbits' cheery song. The discussion between the hobbits had introduced a possibility he had not yet dreamed of in his ponderings of Kienariel's origins. He felt he had a theory at last.  
  
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I've got the next chapter coming up right now, so hold on to your seats. Interesting plot development comin' up! And you should be pleased that I could write at all. There's a rock concert going on right outside my window, I kid you not! Please review for me! Thanx. 


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